Читать книгу Impossible to Resist - Джанис Мейнард, Janice Maynard - Страница 9

Ariel groaned inwardly. That could have gone better. She’d tipped her hand clumsily and far too soon. But there was something about Jacob Wolff that threw her off balance.

For one thing, he was nothing like she had imagined. She’d been expecting a fortysomething, lab-coat-clad father figure wearing gold-rimmed glasses. Someone she could pour her heart out to in comfort.

Jacob Wolff was young, seriously hot and made her nervous as hell. His gray-eyed gaze was X-ray-like, exposing her in ways that made auditioning for a part seem like a walk in the park.

His short-cropped black hair was styled in a no-nonsense fashion, as was the plain but expensive hand-tailored shirt he wore. Broad shoulders strained the seams of the garment. It was tucked into dark slacks that showcased his flat belly and hard thighs.

Ariel spent her days surrounded by handsome men. Men who made their living with the help of six-pack abs honed in a gym. But Jacob Wolff was real in a way unmatched by most males of her acquaintance. His calm confidence and unsmiling intensity were sexy and appealing.

At the moment, he could not have been less encouraging. His brows drew together in a fierce scowl, and his body language signaled his wish to end what was proving to be an embarrassing interlude.

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me if I don’t understand. Your boyfriend?”

His incredulity made heat rise from her throat to her cheeks. “I realize that boyfriend is a fairly juvenile term. You’re a mature man.”

A trace of pique flittered across his face. “As in old? Trust me, Ariel. I’m well aware that I’m facing down thirty while you are a mere child.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped. “I’m no innocent. They eat babies for lunch in Hollywood. I had to grow up fast.”

“You look about sixteen.”

“Well, I’m not. No one would second-guess us as a couple. My mother says I’m an old soul.”

“We’re wandering away from the point. Again. Why do you need a boyfriend? Aren’t you dating that rapper?”

“It was a publicity photo. I’m surprised you saw it.” She was also intrigued.

“I may live like a hermit, but even decrepit men like me have moved beyond rotary phones and dial-up internet. You’re in the news every other day. Haven’t you noticed?”

His quick, wry smile made her stomach flip. “I don’t read the entertainment news.”

“Shocking, Ms. Dane. Shocking.” He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over his trim waist. “It’s a good thing I don’t charge by the hour. You’re not very good at this doctor/patient thing.”

“Well, you suck at being a boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “You’re dumping me already?” A long, exaggerated sigh made his chest rise and fall. “Story of my life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t imagine any woman dumping you. Surely you’ve had your share of serious relationships?”

His face closed up, every nuance of expression wiped away. The quick but conspicuous glance at his watch was designed to put her in her place. “Either be honest with me, Ariel, or leave.”

I have more important things to do. The unspoken subtext made her skin flame with color a second time. “I’m ill,” she said quietly, knowing beyond a doubt that she had wasted a trip. Jacob Wolff was not the kind of man to be manipulated by feminine wiles.

He went still, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Is this a joke? I feel like we’re in a play and you forgot to give me my lines.”

She picked at a spot of lint on her skirt. “You’re rather intimidating, you know. Aren’t doctors supposed to have good bedside manners?”

Again, a flash of that sexy smile. Its rarity made it even more compelling. “We’re not in bed, Ariel. Keep talking,” he insisted. “You’re on a roll.”

“It’s true,” she whispered, her throat tight. The way he said the word bed made her all shivery inside. “I’m sick. That’s why I need you to be my boyfriend.”

Perhaps he realized how close she was to breaking down, because his voice gentled. “Start at the beginning. I won’t judge and I won’t interrupt. I promise. I want to help you, Ariel. You can trust me.”

The room seemed far too silent suddenly. And annoyingly stuffy. Ariel wanted to throw open the windows and let in fresh air along with the sounds of the forest. But the room wasn’t hers to command. So she resisted. Barely.

She lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. If he wanted to begin with Act One, who was she to complain? “I took my mother to the Amazon a few months ago. She’s been diagnosed with advanced breast cancer, and I wanted us to go on one last trip while she was still able to manage it.”

Jacob’s gaze was watchful. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ariel waved a careless hand, feeling anew the pinch of grief. “She’s made her peace with dying.”

“And what about you?”

Her throat closed up painfully, making it impossible to speak for several long seconds. “I’m getting there. It’s been just the two of us for most of my life, so you’ll understand when I say that I can’t imagine my world without her.”

“I’ve read somewhere that she was responsible for putting you in commercials when you were little. Is that true?”

“Yes. Most people assume it was for the money … since my father walked out on us.”

“But you disagree?”

“The money helped. I know that. But I think it was her way of giving me options. She had very few financial resources. But one of her cousins was a talent scout, and she asked him to help her get me started in the industry.”

“Did you ever resent her for that?”

Ariel laughed, caught off guard by his assumption. “Oh, God no. I was a ham from the very beginning. I loved the limelight, the applause, the crowds. Acting gave me validation.”

“But you never went to college, right? You’ve worked straight through?”

Was that criticism she heard in his voice? Or was she being way too sensitive? “I’ve done two movies a year since I turned fourteen, sometimes three. So no, my education ended rather abruptly with a high school diploma. Besides, I wasn’t that good a student anyway, so it was no great loss. And I make plenty of money as it is. Getting a degree would have been a waste of time.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked quietly.

Stunned at his perspicacity, she bit her lip. “Now you’re wandering off topic,” she said pointedly, ignoring his question.

He held up his hands. “Duly noted. Please continue.”

“My mother loves to travel. So when I became successful, I started working on her bucket list during breaks in my schedule. We’ve been to Paris and Rome and Johannesburg and—well, lots of places.”

“Was the trip to the Amazon a success? Did her strength hold out?”

“My mother was a rock. I’m the one who got sick.”

His gaze sharpened. “What happened?”

“We’d been there almost five weeks. It was time to go home. I came down with malaria.”

“You didn’t take medication before you left?”

“I did, but apparently the particular strain I contracted was resistant. I honestly don’t remember much of those three or four days. It was terrible. My mother was so scared. We had hired a guide through a travel service, and he was great. But we were in the middle of the jungle and I was too sick to move. Makimba found a tribal medicine man who treated me.”

“Good Lord.” Jacob sat up, expression aghast. “You could have died.”

“Believe me, I know. But whatever combination of herbal remedies and witch doctor mumbo jumbo he used finally worked. I was weak as a kitten when it was over, but I turned the corner.”

“What happened then?”

She shrugged. “We came home. I was slated to do voiceovers for a character in an animated film. Fortunately, that was studio work in L.A., so I could be in my own bed every night. And the schedule was not as arduous as if I had been in the midst of shooting a regular movie.”

“You need blood tests,” he said urgently. “To identify the exact parasite and to determine what schedule of medication is appropriate. Have you had any of that?”

She winced. “No.”

“Why in the hell not? Jesus Christ, Ariel. This isn’t something to fool around with.” He was almost shouting.

“That’s why I’m here,” she said evenly, projecting as much dignity as she could muster in the face of his disapproval. “I had another flare-up three weeks ago. Not as bad as the first, but still pretty awful. I can’t go to a regular doctor and risk any of this information getting out.”

“Why? It’s not as if you need rehab. You’re ill. What’s the big deal?” His genuine puzzlement was evident.

“In ten days I will start shooting a movie that could change my career forever. Everyone who has read the script agrees that it’s the kind of picture that will generate Oscar buzz. I beat out five other A-list actresses to get the part. If word leaks out that I might become incapacitated in the midst of filming, they could take it away from me.”

“And your career is more important than your health?” Now he blasted her with both criticism and sarcasm. Silvery gray eyes glittered, spearing her with his disgust.

“Back off,” she said heatedly. She leaned toward him, furious with his imperious dismissal of her motives. “You don’t know the slightest thing about my life or my circumstances. It’s a good thing you don’t see patients often, ‘cause I gotta tell you, Doc. You’re an arrogant pig.”

They hovered there like that for half a minute, their faces almost touching, fury arcing between them like a renegade lightning bolt. She could see the rapid heartbeat in his tanned neck, could smell his expensive aftershave.

Amazingly, he was the first one to back down. “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “I promised I would listen without judgment and without interrupting, and I managed neither. Please go on.”

Ariel, primed for battle, was unwillingly disarmed. How rare was it to find a man who knew how to apologize? And yet somehow, he still managed to project an air of absolute superiority that set her teeth on edge. Forced to accept his regret at face value, she settled back into her seat.

“I love what I do,” she said. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about the possibilities. I’ve played so many blonde bimbo parts, I wonder sometimes if the character is taking over. But beyond the professional perks of this new role, I have to be honest. The money this movie will make is no small consideration. My mother has no health insurance. I’m paying for all her bills.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly. But even more than that, I want this for my mother. She’s had to read all the bad press about me. The stuff they invent, the disparaging remarks. For once, I want to make her proud. She cried when I told her I landed this part.”

Jacob Wolff sat in silence, his sharp-featured masculine face giving away no hint of his thought process. Finally, he sighed. “I can’t argue with your motives, but I have a hunch that your mother is already proud of you. It sounds like the two of you are very close.”

“We are.” The words whispered from a throat squeezed by the inescapable knowledge that sometime very soon, Ariel Dane was going to be all alone in the world. She shoved the melancholy thought aside. “So to continue … I have to make this movie. But another bout of malaria is the sword of Damocles hanging over my head. I’d like to hire you as my ‘on location’ physician for the duration of filming.”

“Won’t that make you look like a diva?”

“Focus, Dr. Wolff. This is where the boyfriend part comes in. No one can know I’m sick. As far as the director, cast and crew are concerned, you and I will be an item. If I have a flare-up, you’ll cover for me, treat me and make sure the downtime is minimal. They’ll know who you are, of course. No way to hide that you’re a Wolff. And your profession doesn’t have to be a secret. But they can’t know I’m sick.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re delusional?”

“My whole world is an illusion, Doc. I do my best work on the other side of reality.”

He shook his head. “You make it sound so easy. I deal in facts, Ariel. Black and white. I doubt that I have a drop of dramatic talent anywhere in my body.”

“Perhaps not,” she drawled, feeling the urge to needle him, “but you do have a very fine body. That and your medical skills are all I need.”

If she had hoped to embarrass him, she failed.

Jacob Wolff stared at her, almost visibly picking apart her artless words. “What makes you think I’d even consider such a proposition? I have my work, Ariel, my research. Why would I walk away from that?”

Ariel had learned at the tender age of sixteen that she could use her looks and sexuality to get what she wanted in life, particularly from men. Though her repertoire of ploys had been back-burnered as she matured, this might have been a good time to pull one out. But something about Jacob’s invisible but palpable integrity made her loath to cheapen a budding relationship.

She shrugged, gambling wildly. “For the same reason that you became a doctor. You like being needed. And I need you, Jacob Wolff. You and no one else. Will you help me?”